


wars already won

by nymja



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotionally Compromised, F/M, Likely some background/minor Rose/Finn as well, Multipairing, Pining, Pining everywhere, SPOILERS for TLJ, Time Skips, Trials
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: “Rey,” Finn had whispered when the Resistance made it to the central chambers. When she had been rescued. “What the hell were you thinking?”At the time, there was a simple enough answer: “That I could help.”--An AU where Kylo Ren regains consciousness before Rey during the Battle of Crait, and what happens after.





	wars already won

**Author's Note:**

> A note that this is a multipairing fic, meaning there will be Rey/Kylo Ren and Rey/Finn (and probably some Finn/Rose). If you can't stand one of those ships, no hard feelings for hitting that back button!

**Now** **  
****35 ABY, Resistance Stronghold.** **  
**  


Of all the scenarios Rey wished for when returning to the Resistance, being held in a cell was near the top of impossible circumstances. But a lot can and will change in six months, especially when there’s a war going on. And she can’t blame them for their caution. She really can’t.

 

_ Compromised  _ is a dirty word, after all.

 

She leans her head back against the starkly white wall of the cell--more like a room, really. There is a bed. A console. Some nice viewports. But Rey is becoming more than familiar with captivity and this is more of a hold then a quarters. She is not permitted her lightsaber, her comm link, or Han’s blaster. All items that she misses more than she thought she could. 

 

But she  _ is  _ home. Maybe it’s a fair trade. 

 

She sits on top of the bed, her back to the wall and her knees drawn to her chest. She drops her elbows on top of them, linking and unlinking her fingers as she waits. 

 

Tomorrow she is set to go to trial. To give testimony. 

 

She stares at the viewport, sighing as her head leans back to connect with the wall. She is not alone, here. No matter what happens, she knows she is not going to be alone. 

 

The thought is enough to give her comfort, as she releases a slow stream of breath. Tries to think of the questions they are bound to ask her.  _ What happened?  _ Is the most obvious.  __  
  


What happened.

She wished she knew enough to be able to explain it.

 

“ _ Rey _ ,” Finn had whispered when the boarding party made it to the central chambers, “ _ What the hell were you thinking?” _

 

At the time, she had a simple enough answer: “ _ That I could help.” _

 

Even now, Rey’s not sure if she was successful. If she had made any sort of difference, and for all her efforts, they were only right back to where they started.

 

She stares at her hands, calloused and scarred. She runs a thumb over her opposite knuckles.

 

_ What happened _ ?

 

And the memories come back to her, despite her efforts.

 

**Then.** **  
** **ABY 34, six months ago.**

 

She does not know what happens between Luke’s lightsaber splitting and waking up in here. One moment, she is channeling the Force, pulling with all she has, and the next she is on the floor of what might be a data vault. The black, mirrored surface of the floor is enough to tell her that she was not successful in running. Or convincing him to come with her. This is Snoke’s ship, and she is trapped in what can only be an impromptu prison.

 

At first, she does everything to break out. To resist. To try and slip away. But then she starts to feel people die. And keep dying. When she senses Luke undeniably become one with the Force, she slumps to the ground and doesn’t move for a long time.

 

When the doors finally open to the vault serving as her cell, she’s exhausted and angry and so, so hurt. Her knuckles ache, bloodied and burned from trying to pry open the door. Her limbs and mind are numb. All she can hear is the cries of those lost on Crait, echoing around in her head. Other than Luke, she cannot put names to those who are lost, but she feels the  _ snuff  _ of every light in the Force. There is such grief, such pain, in losing what has just begun to feel like  _ home. _

 

His footsteps fall heavy as he enters the lightless vault, always seeming to contain their own gravity. She does not look up. Soon his presence hovers over like a shadow, a pair of salt-powdered black boots in her line of vision. 

 

For a moment, neither speak. She can’t look at him. She  _ can’t.  _ And so she sets her jaw and clenches the knee her hands are folded over. The silence is loud-- she is damnably still attuned to his every heartbeat, his every breath. She feels his conflict, his pain, just as strongly as she did before and she wonders  _ why.  _ For what purpose does this man put himself and so many others in constant agony? 

 

He doesn’t speak. It seems all he can do is stare.

 

She counts, for a moment, before making herself look up. To face him. 

 

He seems no different than he did when they fought together in Snoke’s chamber. But his hair is wild, spilling over his ears and forehead and into his eyes. His stare seems bottomless and dark, like the wound in Ahch-To. When she glares at him, she sees his eyes widen. As though  _ he’s  _ the one hurting. Rejected.

 

“What is it that you intend to do with me now?” She finally asks, voice raw from screaming and eyes red-rimmed. But she is not defeated. Far from it.

 

He continues watching her. And there’s the slightest of quivers to his chin. Ben (or is it Kylo?) is angry. Afraid. 

 

After a long moment, there’s a slow working of his throat. The words he manages are not harsh or biting. Instead there’s something open in them--confused and vulnerable and lost.

 

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

 

Rey’s shoulders slump, and she presses her forehead to her knee.

 

The door to the vault shuts behind him, but neither of them move.


End file.
